


First

by CryInDollHouse



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games)
Genre: Bottom!Artorias, M/M, This is basically porn with feelings, Top!Ornstein, a little AU where Artorias returned from Oolacile alive, a lot of love, not detailed porn, we need more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 21:44:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17670677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CryInDollHouse/pseuds/CryInDollHouse
Summary: Artorias and Ornstein have some time for themselves.





	First

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gwhalhyde](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwhalhyde/gifts).



It was nice.

To get out of Anor Londo for a while. To forget about all his duties, training, all these never-ending papers that just needed to be checked or signed exactly by  _ him _ . For a while, a circle has been reaped, releasing Ornstein from its everyday routine and  _ finally  _ allowing to have some private time with Artorias.

It was Artorias’ idea in the first place - after their arrival from Oolacile  _ way too many _ things fell upon tired shoulders of his Captain. The fight with Manus wasn't exactly the easiest one, and if not for the chosen undead,  _ not even Gods  _ can tell which turn the events would take. Yet, thanks to the cursed, they defeated, stopped the spread and even managed to save Princess Dusk  _ (who was believed to be dead) _ . Everything turned out in the best way possible and, after  _ all  _ of this, Ornstein, how Artorias said, deserved  _ a break _ , not  _ all of these… duties. _

It wasn't even that hard to talk Dark Sun into allowing Ornstein leave with him to the Darkroot Garden, as talking the said Lion to leave. Him, in his eternal desire to serve and fulfill all of the duties that dropped at his shoulder along with the title of Lord-Commander or Knight-Captain  _ (First for Silver Knights, second for him, Ciaran and Gough). _ It took Artorias two full days of his never-ending talks of how the Darkroot Garden beautiful in his time of the year  _ (late spring it is, after all), _ how it would be great for Sif to visit the forest, how they could have some time for  _ themselves _ .

They've made an agreement, that no one in Anor Londo must know in what kind their relationship evolved during their misadventure in Oolacile (aside from Ciaran, for she already knew). None of them could tell how this fact would be taken by others, neither did they wanted to risk it. Even tho Ornstein had some Silver Knights under his command with the same relationships  _ (sometimes even with one another) _ and he accepted them the way they are, they’ve been only  _ a few  _ and reaction of  _ dozens _ of others couldn't be predicted. And so, in attempts not to cause any suspiciousness, they rarely met with each other for  _ special occasions _ , usually after the sunset and not for long - and here Artorias represent him such a unique opportunity to have  _ a whole week  _ with each other.

And so Ornstein gave in and they left.

They stayed in a little house, in which Artorias used to live before joining the army. This place was almost a relic - almost three thousand years old, yet still in good shape  _ (Artorias did everything he could to keep it that way, even re-built it so many times) _ . It had one huge bed, enough to fit both of them, small kitchen united with something of a living room  _ (actually it is a bedroom and living room in one).  _ A very nice place to stay, especially with someone you  _ hold dear _ to your heart.

The sun started to slowly crawl over to the horizon, the chill wind brushing tree branches, ever so slowly. Ornstein sat outside, watching over the huge lake’s surface, how the wind blew gentle breezes, creating ripple all over it. The lake perfectly reflected all of the beauty above it: ever so lazily moving, at their own peace clouds, that started to take both soft and flaming orange, sky gaining its deep dark blue, with thee crowns, almost invisibly shaken from the wind. The man sat at the steps of the house, head resting atop his interweaved hands. His elbows rested at knees, while the said Lion listened to quite rustling of leaves, allowing himself to enjoy his surroundings.

He wondered if Sif would return soon: the wolf, not so small anymore, would often run away on his own, exploring the forest. None of them tried to hold him, for,  after all, he is a  _ wild _ beast and such place, like Anor Londo certainly wasn’t a best for him. And now, when there is an opportunity,  _ let the wolf have its fun. _

He doesn’t sit like this for long: soon enough he hears a rather familiar, a bit limping footsteps coming from the house. Planks softly creak underneath the weight of a warrior, as Artorias stops at a doorway, leaning onto it.

-Enjoying nature, as I see?- coy smile plays on the raven man lips, as he eyes the man in front.

Ornstein straightens himself, lowering his hands and turning to his lover, gentle smile on his own lips: -Yes. It indeed was a great idea. After so much happened, - the Lion turned back to the lake, as Artorias joins him at the steps, - in such a short period of time, it is a  _ blessing _ , really.

Ornstein slightly tilts his head to the right, bright golden eyes meeting with now absolute cobalt blue ones. Warmness, care, and such tender love in them fill the man with tingling warm feeling, that like honey flows from his heart and through his veins. Artorias then leans forward, eyes shut, as he places a tender kiss against Ornstein’ lips: dry, crossed with a scar  _ (that the Wolf left) _ , which the Lion gladly accepts. Such a  _ simple _ action, yet, through it so many emotions pass, telling one another of such a great feeling both hold for each other. It’s  _ short _ , but it can tell you a story of love, that lived for  _ hundreds  _ of years.

-You deserve a break,- Artorias murmurs, as they break the kiss and he presses their foreheads together. -You’ve done enough for our Lords. You deserve something for  _ yourself _ .

The Wolf then rises from his spot, tagging Ornstein along by his hands.

-Come with me. I’ve got something for you.

Artorias leads Ornstein onto the house, sly grin shining on his face. The raven man then pushes the Lion onto the bed, eyeing him from above. The Lion rises his brown at such odd actions but stays silent anyway.

-Ornstein, do you remember that when I was  _ much _ younger, I’ve asked you one, important for me, question?- Artorias starts, slowly climbing onto Ornstein's lap and settling himself with  _ hesitation _ , and the called one can already see  _ in which directions _ Artorias leads this conversation. - That time we stayed in a city and one…  _ flower _ girl showed some  _ special kind of interest  _ in me?

Ornstein’s arms wrap around Artorias’ lower-section, bringing him closer. Golden eyes look up, meeting with a warm gaze of his lover. -Yes. She showed you _special_ _affection_ , but you weren’t sure in it. I’ll stay on my words I said back then - when the time is right, you will know, _feel_ it. Why do you ask about it?

Artorias lifts his head up for a bit,  _ unsure _ ,  _ hesitating  _ as if  _ pondering  _ on the rightness of his actions, as then their eyes meet once again.

-Because I---, I know it  _ now _ , when I’m with  _ you. _ I feel-, I feel that I--, the Wolf starts to  _ stutter,  _ so Ornstein rises his hand to gently cup Artorias’ cheek, as he presses their forehead against one another, looking right into the cobalt eyes.

-Artorias, if you are  _ not _ sure, this is alright. I do not want to push you into anything you feel uncomfortable about. I  _ care  _ about you. I want to make sure that you are  _ happy _ with me and not doing things just  _ ‘cause it has to be _ , but because you  _ want to. _

He feels long, rough fingers ever so lovingly caressing sides of his face, thumbs brushing against the foolish scars. The man can’t help but lean into the touch, his eyes slide shut.

-I want to,- Artorias breathes out, almost like as if it was a secret that no one else could know, hot breath burning against Ornstein's face, -I  _ feel  _ it.  _ I want to be yours tonight. _

In that exact moment, they both find each other in a tender kiss. Artorias’ lips move with insecure, for he is  _ nervous, he has never done this before _ , and Ornstein’s ones, which try to calm the nerves of his lover, move carefully. This is not some kind of  _ appease  _ for their  _ needs _ , no. Both of them, they want to  _ love _ each other in an absolutely new way for them. Something inexperienced, fully new for them.

Artorias pushes his lover down, making Ornstein recline on his back, elbows as a support for his upper-body, while he settles himself comfortably atop, putting hands at the Knight-Commander sides. Their lips meet again and again, in short kisses, each one filled with emotions that no words can describe. They do not want to separate from one another, their kisses suddenly becoming sloppy, until the moment Ornstein sharply pulls the man even closer, tilting his head to the side, deepening the kiss. They both, filled with so many  _ feelings _ , have so  _ little _ things in which they can express their eternal  _ love _ \- not one, but an entire complex of _ feelings  _ and they both try their best when Artorias slightly parts his lips,  _ giving permission.  _ Ornstein’s tongue slips in, interweaving with Artorias’ own in an inept dance. They separate from each other only for brief moments,  _ to make a breath,  _ and return to one another’s lips. Artorias’ left hand  _ (right acting as support) _ blindly reaches for Lion’s hand, lying atop.

In the next moment, Artorias is the one to be  _ under _ , as Ornstein ever so suddenly changes their position, upending the man atop unto the bed, now looming over him with a sly smile, as he leans in for another kiss, while his left hand  _ (and free, for all weight goes into the right one)  _ slides down, barely touching sensitive neck skin, caressing chest, only to return back to warrior’s face. Both of Artorias’ hands focused on the face of  _ his _ Commander, not allowing to move too far away.

There is no need for words, as Ornstein lifts them both. They sit across each other, and,  _ somehow _ , through sloppy kisses manage to get Artorias’ dark green tunic off, sending it flying to the farthest corner. Now, that the Lion has access to exposed skin, he lowers, pressing a kiss against his lover’s neck, hands running up his chest, leaving ghostly touches. Chills run down the man spine from such  _ a strange _ sensation that the kiss to the neck caused. As another one is being pressed - he can’t help but exhale loudly, overwhelmed by it.

-There is one thing I want from you, my love,- Ornstein softly speaks, hot breath burning Artorias’ skin as he hums in a gesture that he  _ listens _ , - If you will start to feel uncomfortable, if there is something you don’t like,  _ please,- _ he presses another kiss, sucking at skin a bit, -let be know. Tell me anything. Do not endu---

_ - _ I know, that you do not wish to hurt me in any way. But, - he interrupts even before Ornstein opens his mouth, as he gently cups the bearded chin, lifting his face from the exposed neck, meeting his eyes. -I  _ promise _ I’ll let you know if I feel inconvenient.

He presses another kiss against Artorias’ lips - short, yet tender. He  _ wants _ nothing _ ,  _ but Artorias  _ being okay _ with what they are doing. If his memory does not fail him  _ (and it doesn’t) _ , then this is Artorias’ first time  _ (ever, while he had some experience: there were girls (and only girls) but not longer than for one night)  _ and Ornstein wants it to be  _ perfect  _ \- for  _ both _ of them.

He lowers himself, hands wondering all over Wolf Knight’s body, as he is almost ghostly leads his tongue right from the collarbone and up, stopping near the ear, earning for such action a shocked, yet not unpleasant gasp. Ornstein repeats it: only this time pressing against the pulse point, earning such  _ a sweet _ sound from his partner.

They both can feel the heat start to grow within, how it goes from the stomach, sinking down. His own pants seem to become tighter, and that black tunic on Ornstein suddenly  _ annoys him so much.  _ His hands duck under the light cloth, going up the Lion Knight’s sides, fingertips examining every curve of his body. Hot breath burns against such sensitive skin, and he can’t hold a whine of pleasure, as Ornstein sucks at his neck and even  _ slightly bites _ . It feels odd, yet  _ pleasant _ . He lifts his own head, revealing more of his neck to Ornstein, allowing him to draw strange curves with his tongue all along it. Shivers cover Artorias’ entire body and trousers feel way  _ too tight _ now, as hot blood rushes to his rising member.

Finally, Ornstein part himself from Artorias to take his tunic off, presenting his body for the last one: tho this wasn’t new for them, for they saw each other naked quite often, but only  _ now _ can they touch each other however  _ they desire _ to.

Artorias’ long fingers wander all over his Commander’s body, feeling every roughness, every curve underneath fingertips, every scar earned throughout the war - they felt  _ right _ , as an inherent part of Ornstein. Little reminders of how many times the World tried to break him for no avail and each attempt only made Ornstein  _ stronger. _

-You know, - Artorias breaths out, as Ornstein rises golden eyes to his partner face, -I always found your scars magnificent in a way. Must admit - it was  _ very _ hard to keep my hands to myself whenever I’ve got the chance to see them. And,- his left-hand fingers caressing a long and brutal scar from a dragon claw, -to my shame, there was a time when I just…  _ could not  _ resist.- The raven man admits quietly, waiting for Lion’s reaction.

-If you talk about that time when we ‘ought to hide in a cave during the blizzard,- Ornstein presses another kiss against one’s neck, closing his own eyes, -then, I must admit as well, I was not exactly  _ asleep _ .

They shared heat with each other in order to  _ not to die _ to hypothermia that day, and Artorias,  _ thinking _ that his Captain was deep in his sleep, took advantage and allowed himself to closely examine his body. Nothing in  _ that way _ , that is.

Artorias laughs, falling onto his back tagging Ornstein along. -So you admit you  _ enjoyed _ it?

-Yes,- Ornstein’s fingers move down, carefully wandering around the man stomach where the curly black hair begins, -Yes, I did.

The Wolf Knight pulls the Lion closer, lifting his head to the side, parting his lips - a silent request. Ornstein doesn’t resist as he leans in, tongue slipping into parted lips, where it’s met by the other's tongue. Only now do they realize their hunger, that starts to ignite the flame within their mortal souls.

Artorias is impatient now, for his trousers became  _ too _ tight, and Ornstein maybe takes it  _ too _ slow. He understands: Ornstein is slow  _ for him _ , after all. So with no doubt  _ (maybe just a little), _ he takes Ornstein much softer hand  _ (he doesn’t possess a Greatsword after all) _ and puts it at the front of the trousers. What he _ doesn’t  _ expect is how Ornstein squeezes an already hard member through the cloth and, due to it, doesn’t manage to hold a  _ moan _ escaping his mouth, that so happens to come  _ right into  _ Ornstein’s.

_ Okay, maybe things were alright with the pace Ornstein chose. _

-My, I couldn’t imagine you were  _ that  _ sensitive. But do not be ashamed,- the Lion sucks onto his lover’s neck  _ on purpose _ , earning another whine as a present for his efforts, -be as loud as you please.

_ Because I’ve never heard anything more beautiful. _

He slightly presses at the tip with his thumb through the trousers, while leaving a little path of kisses from his body to the chest. Now, without a twinge of conscience, Artorias whines loudly, and  _ such a sweet sound _ makes the blood rush to Ornstein own flesh.

Somehow, both of them manages to get rid of trousers and undergarments, now completely naked in front one another. From time to time, Ornstein used to hear from Silver Knights that size of Artorias’ Greatsword was  _ compensating _ to the size _ below _ when in truth it actually has been  _ equal _ .

Ornstein once again looms over Artorias, hands at his sides, as the warrior underneath seems to be nervous.

-Are you still sure?

Artorias for a moment closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, before with his hands pull the Knight-Commander by his neck towards him, pressing a wet kiss against his lips, cobalt eyes staring right into the once again golden  _ (almost like the sun itself) _ eyes.

_ -Never have been more. _

And so they reach the point of not backing away.

Ornstein, well pleased, now takes his place between Artorias’ legs, allowing them to wrap around his hips. He looks at Artorias from above and can feel how his heart heavily ponders in his ribcage from the sight: The Wolf Knight with red, as the plume on Lion helmet, face, with lips apart, heavy, unsteady breathing and half-closed eyes, with neck, where he can already notice small hickeys all over it. The Lion doesn't’ take his eyes off when he strokes both of them, just once. The way how Artorias bites on his bottom lip, how slightly turns his head to the side, how a half-moan half-whine escapes his mouth - _only that_ can make the Lion Knight explode, for he has _never_ seen anything more _majestic_ than this. He strokes again, slowly, carefully listening to Artorias’ sweet whines and whimpers, how heavy he breathes and practically _moans_ _his_ name.

And so the Lion starts to stroke more firmly, fingers of his right hand tightly pressing their members against one another. It feels  _ absolutely  _ good, and Ornstein can't hold his own whine of pleasure. He then looms over Artorias’ body, pressing a kiss against the chest, before  _ biting _ unto already hardened from the arousal nipple. Apparently, the Wolf Knight did not expect anything like that, but he found it  _ pleasuring _ , judging by the moan escaping his mouth.

He keeps like that for a while, clearly  _ enjoying _ it  _ too much.  _ The Commander kept on leaving hickeys and barely visible bite marks all over his lover's body, closely listening to loud panting, whines, and moans of his.

-Did you bring oil with you?

Artorias seems to be caught off guard by the sudden question, as he immediately opens his eyes and raises them to his Captain, surprise written all over scared face.

-No, you didn't.

-Why are you asking?

Such  _ childish _ amusement and curiosity.

-You do not expect me to have you  _ dry _ , don’t you?

-I haven't-  _ ah! _ \- thought about that.

The Dragonslayer exhales, thinking of their options for several seconds, before speaking once again: -I want you to open your mouth and wet my fingers as much as possible.

Such a request makes the Wolf turn even redder than he already is, yet he obeys it nonetheless: he lets three fingers in his mouth, wrapping his tongue around them, sliding in between, parting them a bit. Such sight for Commander makes it harder to contain his hunger, for he  _ didn't _ stop the strokes and now he could  _ feel _ every sound Artorias made with his own  _ skin _ .

After a couple of minutes, he pulls fingers out, saliva dripping from them, a thin line connecting them with Artorias’ tongue. A sight like this makes the blood boil in his veins, his body  _ longing _ .

-Now, I’ll warn you: it is going to hurt a little.

- _ I trust you with this. _

Shivers go down his spine when he feels as one finger slides inside of him, slowly beginning circling motion. It's weird, yet, the Wolf Knight finds it… _enjoyable._ He clings to Ornstein, nails digging into his back, leaving long marks. It hurts, but this pain only ignites the fire within, as Ornstein presses himself closer, hiding his face in the spot between the Knight's neck and shoulders, while he keeps moving his finger more swiftly now. Artorias doesn’t even try not to be loud anymore: he moans _Ornstein’s_ _name_ , and does it _loudly_ , throwing his head back, hands gripping on his lover’s shoulder, as the Lion adds a second finger, freezing for a moment, allowing Artorias to get used to it. Then he starts to move once again, picking a faster pace, shortly after starting scissoring the two.

It  _ hurts _ , it feels  _ odd _ and uncomfortable. However, all of it goes to the background, becoming nothing but an annoying noise when long fingers just barely brush against that bundle of nerves, some kind of a  _ spot _ , that sends a bolt of lightning through his body, lower abdomen muscles strain,  tugging feeling forming there. It feels  _ so good _ , almost like  _ bliss _ , and he doesn’t even try to hold the loud moan from escaping his mouth. That sound is like music for Ornstein's ears, that makes his member twitch,  _ longing for a release _ . Ornstein always handled without mittens his arousal when it would catch him in the morning or  _ (from one point in his life) _ when his thoughts about Artorias would drift into the most _ sinister _ way.

Some evenings, when left alone in his chambers and with no tasks left to do, the Lion Knight would crawl under his blanket, close his eyes, and allow his mind drift to Artorias. They started innocently: an image of the Wolf Knight’s face, the way he smiled, how his eyes sparkled in the rays of sinking sun, at how he, in the most childish way, would stick out his tongue, and that _ tongue with a mouth of his,  _ oh,  _ would be just perfect around his length--- _

And then take an absolutely different direction, leading to the Knight silently curse through clenched teeth, as he would release in his own hand, the name of his fellow comrade,  _ his friend _ , falling from his lips.

Now, it was Artorias to whine out the name of  _ his _ Commander.

-Oh,  _ Ornstein _ ,- All pride and nobility of a Knight lost, voice trembling,  _ pleading _ ,- I ha-have no idea what it is,  _ Ah!, _ but,  _ please _ ,  _ don’t stop! _

The Lion Knight gladly fulfills the Wolf’s plead, as he adds the third finger, thrusting inside, brushing against  _ that  _ spot, but even mere brushing is enough to make the Wolf moan out loud, his nails dig into Ornstein’s skin, eyelashes and lips shake and toes curl - this is just  _ too much _ to handle.

The Lion gives a tender kiss against other’s shoulder, as he starts to slow down and then pulls his fingers out.

Ornstein tears himself from Artorias, giving one more kiss to his chest before it. He eyes up his lover from above: the Knight that caused both respect and fear, now so shamelessly spread underneath him, his body hot, face, red, with sweat on the forehead and temples, wearing an expression of displeasing, brows frowned, panting heavily.

-You did well, my dear.- the Lion  _ coos, _ gripping onto the base of his member, -Think you ready?

Artorias rises blurred eyes to his Captain, nodding swiftly a few times: -Yes,  _ please,  _ Ornstein, I--- I  _ need it _ .  _ Let me be yours. _

_ How can he say no? _

Since oil is out of perspective, Ornstein spits on his hand, spreading his saliva along the length. He doesn’t break eye contact, as he ever so slowly pushes inside, hinting every change in the face of his beloved: how he bites on his lower lip, hissing from the discomfort, how his lips are apart, his face hot, sweat streaming down his face. In an attempt to smooth the pain, Ornstein leans in, kissing sweating forehead, stopping at the half. He sighs deeply, allowing Artorias to adjust to something  _ more fitting _ than one’s fingers.

After a minute he starts to move: slowly at first, only half inside, gradually gaining pace with each move. It doesn’t take him long to expedite himself, as he leans back, arms as support. It allows Ornstein to threw his head backward, letting out the breath, as he raises it back to enjoy the sight of Artorias in thorns of his heat: how with one arm he hides his face in the elbow bend, other lost any tact in its strokes, how The Wolf Knight loudly  _ pleads, moans and whines,  _ almost  _ screaming _ out The Knight-Captain name, as he starts to move faster, now going  _ full _ , thrusting so  _ perfectly _ against that  bundle of nerves, Artorias’ speech becomes incoherent.

-Yes!  _ Ah! _ Yes, Ornstein,  _ do not- ah!- stop! _ It feels-  _ my Lord!- so good! _

That sweet  _ begging _ is just the dirtiest dream coming to live, and that pulls Ornstein closer to the edge. The man then suddenly changes his position: now on his knees, a bit bent over, hands gripping onto Wolf’s hips. Long legs wrap around Lion’s hips, toes curling from all of these  _ sensations _ .

The pace is completely lost now, as they both feel themselves near the edge now: like an animal, Ornstein trusts into the man underneath him, both of them longing for a release. It feels like  _ bliss _ , and Artorias can swear he sees  _ stars _ , as he, in a terrible attempt, reaches for Ornstein, embracing him closer, right-hand burying in long fire-burning hair, pulling it lightly, with other,  _ finally _ reaching the so desired climax, exploding on his own stomach. Ornstein’s thrusts only double the pleasure, that fills him whole and it all is  _ absolutely incredible. _ It doesn’t take Lion to explode inside his lover closely after, for the way, how Artorias actually  _ cries out _ , when reaching his edge, how he  _ clings onto him,  _ the fact that this is  _ real _ , and not his dirty fantasies made it impossible for the Knight-Captain to hold anymore.

There are a few more lazy thrusts before Ornstein stops, breathing heavily, eyes slid shut. His own knees start to feel week, he  _ never _ experienced an orgasm more powerful than  _ this,  _ and it leaves a pleasant feeling of warmth and tiredness in his body. Other’s breath seems to become more steady now, as he pulls out and moves away a bit to take a proper look at all the job he made: hickeys, which will fade only in a week, all over the Knights neck and in some places on  _ shoulders _ , how so suddenly  _ the Abysswalker looks so vulnerable and tired _ , legs spread wide,  _ his seed  _ starting to drip from the entrance.

-Like-  _ huh _ \- what you see?- breath still unsteady, yet, there is  _ that _ bright smile shining on the Knight’s face. -Very much, must I say. - Ornstein breaths out, as he falls near Artorias, with no strength left, as the last one pulls him into an embrace.

-You were excellent, my love, -Artorias murmurs in other’s temple, as Ornstein rests his head atop the Wolf Knight’s chest. -in every aspect.

The Knight holds him commander closer, while he tucks them under the blanket. And so they stay like that: close to one another, exhausted, left with no strength, only love for each other inside.

-Artorias?

The called one hum in acknowledge.

_-I love you._

A soft smile touches Artorias’ lips, as he kisses Ornstein’s temple.

_-I love you too._


End file.
